


the amazing hawkguy

by 1000_directions



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Acrobatics, M/M, Mirror Sex, Trans Clint Barton, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-13 02:03:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21486517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1000_directions/pseuds/1000_directions
Summary: “I expected you to end up far more injured,” Bucky admits, grinning up at Clint. Clint frowns down at him, then licks his nose.“Rude,” Clint says as Bucky sputters indignantly. “I was a fucking acrobat. I was built for this kind of funhouse mayhem.”“You’re a whole pile of funhouse mayhem in one sexy package,” Bucky agrees, stroking a broad palm down Clint’s warm back.(Sexy Winterhawk shenanigans in a house of mirrors)
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Comments: 27
Kudos: 137
Collections: Winterhawk Bingo





	the amazing hawkguy

**Author's Note:**

> Winterhawk Bingo square: Flexibility
> 
> This story is set in the same universe as _[london boy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21126356)_, so the same author's note applies:
> 
> Clint is trans masc in this story. He and Bucky have been together two years, and Clint was already on T and had top surgery before they met. Starting T causes the clitoris to grow, up to a few inches. Clint chooses to refer to this organ as his dick. Clint does not experience any dysphoria in this fic. This story is a fictional depiction of one person’s experience as a trans masc individual and is not meant to represent all experiences.

Bucky and Clint mostly live in Bed-Stuy these days, but they still keep quarters at Avengers Tower for when a mission stretches on just too goddamn long and they barely have the energy to text Simone and ask her to take Lucky before the two of them are falling into bed and passing out.

Plus, Bucky needs somewhere to keep all his extra gear that doesn’t fit into their apartment. 

_Plus_, Clint insists that if everyone else is getting a particular benefit, they need to reap that reward as well or they’re getting underpaid, and Bucky can’t argue with that.

But their rooms in the tower are mostly unused, aside from the occasional nap and the slightly more common furtive fuck, because it turns out that Bucky gets really, really turned on by sparring with Clint, and Clint gets really, really turned on by winding up Bucky in public. Sometimes, they just need to find a nearby flat surface and a door that locks _immediately_, so having their own set of rooms is helpful in that regard.

But even with with how infrequent their visits are, Bucky is still pretty sure he remembers what the place is supposed to look like.

Like, he’s about ninety-seven and a half percent sure that the place wasn’t full of an entire labyrinth of funhouse mirrors the last time they were in town.

“What the fuck?” Bucky says uncertainly as they step inside. Next to him, Clint lets out a frustrated sigh so deep that it seems dredged up from beneath the ground.

“Fuckin’ Tony,” he mutters under his breath.

“What’s going on?” There is a fucking house of mirrors inside their apartment. There is no rational explanation for this. Jesus, it’s going to be a pain in the ass to disassemble.

“It would take too long to even explain,” Clint says, shaking his head. “I made a joke about something and now Tony’s being an asshole.”

“Was it worth it?” Bucky asks warily, mentally calculating a pathway through the winding mirror passageways. “Was it a really, really funny joke?”

“Babe, you know I’m hysterical,” Clint says distractedly. Bucky glances over at him and sees Clint is making similar calculations for trajectory and egress. “Race you to the middle?”

The words are barely out of Clint’s mouth before he’s launching himself up onto Bucky’s shoulders and then leaping into the air like a goddamn maniac. Bucky freezes, certain that he’s about to watch his idiot boyfriend fall through enough mirrors to bleed out in the middle of their apartment. But Clint just lands neatly on top of a mirror and then elegantly tumbles down the other side to the ground inside of the maze, and Bucky curses under his breath and starts picking out his own path. Because Clint is a _fucking cheater_, but Bucky is a really, really good strategist, and he’s _not_ losing this shit to a _fucking cheater_.

In the end, it turns out to be a draw. Bucky busts through the last passageway just in time to break Clint’s fall as he catapults himself over a wall, and the two of them crash heavily to the ground, panting and hearts racing but with smiles on both their faces and no visible cuts.

“I expected you to end up far more injured,” Bucky admits, grinning up at Clint. Clint frowns down at him, then licks his nose.

“Rude,” Clint says as Bucky sputters indignantly. “I was a fucking acrobat. I was built for this kind of funhouse mayhem.”

“You’re a whole pile of funhouse mayhem in one sexy package,” Bucky agrees, stroking a broad palm down Clint’s warm back.

“Excuse me, are you talking about my _package_?” Clint asks, feigning a scandalized tone. He nips at Bucky’s neck, then licks away the bite marks, kissing the rest of his words into Bucky’s warm skin. “C’mon, babe, we’re at work.” He ruts his hips idly into Bucky’s own. “You should be more professional.”

“Your hand is literally inside my pants,” Bucky says weakly, moaning as Clint gently squeezes his dick.

“You’re already getting hard, and I’m barely doing anything,” Clint whispers. “What’s got you so hot, baby?”

“You,” Bucky says breathlessly. He’s a fucking goner, easy as anything and he doesn’t give a shit. “Liked watching you acrobat around the place. Scared me half to death, but it was...a nice show.”

“Oh, really?” Clint says, preening. He pushes himself to a sitting position, still straddling Bucky’s lap, still a heavy and warm weight across Bucky’s cock. “You like watching my body work?”

“You know I do,” Bucky says, lightly gripping Clint’s hips with his hands. Clint is good with a lot of things. He’s skillful and precise and strong and _gorgeous_. But there’s something about the reckless way he launches himself through space that just gets Bucky going, and they both know it.

“You know,” Clint says thoughtfully. He reaches an arm behind himself to grab the back collar of his shirt, then pulls it off over his head in one fluid motion. “If you like watching me, we picked a pretty good spot.”

Bucky’s so transfixed on the way Clint’s pecs and triceps and delts are flexing in concert that he almost misses the words he’s saying. But then the meaning sinks in, and he realizes that they’re in the middle of a goddamn hall of mirrors. He lets his head fall to one side, and he sees reflections of reflections, an infinity of images, and in each one of them, Clint is straddling Bucky, bare-chested and devastatingly handsome, a perfect smirk on his perfect face.

“Oh, fuck,” Bucky whispers.

“Something like that,” Clint agrees, grinding down onto Bucky’s cock with a dirty swivel of his hips. Bucky chokes out a whimper that turns into a whine when Clint stands up suddenly.

Bucky watches as Clint shucks off his pants, and he gnaws on his own lip to see Clint’s body revealed so easily and unashamedly. The sharpness of his hipbones, the faded scars of his pecs, the soft heft of his dick. Bucky loves each of these parts of Clint so much, and he loves the ease with which Clint lets himself be exposed and vulnerable.

“Looking good,” Bucky says lowly, not even attempting to disguise the way his eyes stalk over every last inch of Clint’s body. Christ, he’s fucking beautiful.

“Get naked,” Clint says, blushing slightly, but he’s grinning. “I wanna try something.”

Bucky moves automatically, stripping himself efficiently and completely under Clint’s watchful gaze.

“Good,” Clint says softly. “Fuck, you’re so hard.”

“I am,” Bucky says, wrapping a lose fist around his hard cock, shuddering slightly at the tease of his own rough palm. “You get me so worked up.”

Clint flashes his lopsided smile at Bucky, then without any warning, he launches himself into a standing forward roll, then a no-armed cartwheel, then a backflip into a handspring, and it’s just _madness_, but he’s_ so good_. His aim and control and form are flawless.

Clint’s family kicked him out at fourteen, so he ran away and joined the circus, where no one asked him any questions he didn’t want to answer, where they let him pick his own name and took him at his word when he told them who he was. He’d been someone else before, but in the circus, he became Clint Barton, the Amazing Hawkguy, master marksman and expert tumbler.

The circus ended up being its own breed of fucked up, but if nothing else, it gave Clint the freedom to begin growing into the man that Bucky’s completely fucking in love with, and Bucky’s glad he had that chance.

Clint’s doing a handstand now, his spine ramrod straight, his toes pointed precisely, his entire body straining and perfectly poised. Bucky holds his breath, watching as Clint slips from the pose, sinking easily into a full split.

“Whatcha doing?” Bucky finally asks, watching Clint do a back walkover.

“Stretching,” Clint says. “Limbering up. I’ve gotta be loose for what I’m planning.”

“Am I going to survive this?” Bucky asks, not much caring either way. It would be worth it to go like this. Cause of death: the lethality of Clint’s devastating body.

“I make no promises,” Clint teases, settling lightly back on his feet and walking over to Bucky.

Clint drops easily to his knees and straddles Bucky’s chest, and Bucky can feel the warmth of Clint’s body against his own skin, feels the way Clint’s weight restricts his own breathing. He thinks he knows where this is headed, and he wants it. He wants to be smothered by Clint’s body, wants to drown in the heat and the weight and the scent of him. He wants to be crushed and teased, and he wants Clint to get off on it.

“Let me put my mouth on you,” Bucky whispers, and Clint smiles down at him. There’s a devilish glint to his eyes, but it’s dwarfed by all the fondness beaming from Clint’s gaze. Clint fits one large palm to Bucky’s face, dragging a crooked thumb along his cheekbone.

“Stop talking and do it already,” Clint murmurs, and then he’s sinking down, knees digging into Bucky’s armpits as he lowers himself towards Bucky’s slack mouth. Bucky reaches for him, craning his neck when Clint takes too long, and his eager tongue is rewarded with the heady musk of Clint’s sex, the twitch of his dick as Bucky mouths at him. He licks at Clint’s dick, gentle but determined and hungry as anything.

Clint whimpers beautifully, his thigh muscles spasming where they’re clamped around Bucky’s torso. Bucky fastens his hands around Clint’s ankles, and Clint moans at the feel of him. Clint loves being enclosed and held down, loves being manhandled and moved. Bucky anchors him even as he’s slurping at Clint’s dick, trying to keep him on the ground and send him through the ceiling at the same time.

“Oh fuck,” Clint whispers. “Fuck, your mouth is perfect, babe. Getting me so hard.” He sways precariously on top of Bucky, letting out a frustrated sigh. “Shit, this angle isn’t gonna work. We gotta move.”

But Bucky doesn’t gotta move anywhere, and he’s not gonna. His head is buried between Clint’s thighs, and he’s reverently licking over Clint’s dick, and he doesn’t want to be anywhere else. This is perfect.

“Holy shit,” Clint breathes, his thighs momentarily closing down on Bucky’s head, and Bucky revels in it, the brief sensation of being crushed, the romantic idea of being suffocated to death between Clint’s perfect thighs. But before breathing even starts to become an issue, Clint’s thighs splay, and he awkwardly pushes himself back to his knees. Bucky chases after him, tongue trailing through the air, tracking the scent and the taste of his sex, but Clint moves too quickly.

Bucky licks his own lips, and his untouched dick twitches at the taste of Clint, heady and hot on his tongue.

“Get your back against the mirror and sit up a bit,” Clint says, blinking dazedly at Bucky. His thighs tremble beautifully as he scoots back so that Bucky can reposition himself, because he’ll do whatever Clint wants as fast as he can, just as long as he gets to have _more_.

“Is this okay?” Bucky asks. The mirror is cool and smooth against his back, and it’s sturdier than he was expecting.

“Perfect,” Clint says softly.

He sits in Bucky’s lap, and Bucky groans when Clint’s ass brushes his own cock, but Clint’s barely there a moment before he’s balancing one of his knees on Bucky’s shoulder.

“You won’t drop me, right?” Clint asks hesitantly. Bucky shakes his head, and Clint swallows hard, then moves his other knee to Bucky’s other shoulder, wobbling slightly before finding his center of gravity. “Promise you won’t drop me,” he says, his voice so faint Bucky can barely hear.

“I won’t drop you,” Bucky says, his mouth suddenly dry. He brings his hands up to cradle Clint’s slim waist. Clint is kneeling on Bucky’s shoulders now, and his dick is just within range of Bucky’s mouth, but Bucky’s going to wait and make sure Clint feels safe before he tries anything.

“I know you won’t,” Clint says. “I trust you.”

Before Bucky can even react, Clint bends backwards dramatically, contorting himself into such a severe backbend that his face is looking completely behind himself.

Directly at Bucky’s dick.

“Oh, fuck,” Bucky whispers when he figures it out, right before it happens. “Fuck. _Fuck_.”

Clint hums, digs his knees securely into Bucky’s shoulders, then swallows down Bucky’s dick in one smooth motion.

“_Fuck_,” Bucky repeats helplessly. It’s the feel of Clint’s mouth and the skillful power of his body and the smell of Clint’s own arousal, all of it is hitting Bucky at once, and he’s so turned on he is genuinely going to die, and it’s going to be worth it.

Clint whimpers around Bucky’s cock, and the vibrations feel so good that Bucky digs his fingers into Clint’s hips. The motion brings Clint’s body closer to his face, and Bucky has to strain a bit, but he can just about reach.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” Bucky mutters, sucking harsh kisses into the tender skin of Clint’s inner thighs. “Christ, you’re unreal. How are you real?” He rubs his stubbled cheek over Clint’s thin skin, then licks at the blossoming red splotches from his mouth. “Gonna devour you.”

Clint moans brokenly, and Bucky buries his face in him again, addicted to the heat of Clint’s arousal, desperate to make Clint come. It’s barely any time at all. Clint gets turned on by being in precarious spots, and he gets turned on by Bucky supporting him, and he really gets turned on by Bucky drooling happily over his dick, so it’s no surprise when Clint starts to come, his thighs rhythmically squeezing Bucky’s head as he works out his climax against Bucky’s willing face.

“You’re so good,” Bucky whispers into Clint’s heated, trembling skin. “So good, sweetheart.”

Clint sags slightly as his muscles relax, but Bucky holds tight to his hips. He promised Clint he wouldn’t let him fall, and he’s going to keep that promise.

Clint’s mouthing lazily at Bucky’s dick now, wet and slick but aimless, like his finesse was fucked right out of him. His mouth is lax and easy, and Bucky thrusts up experimentally. Clint hums happily, so he does it again and again, shallowing fucking up into Clint’s warm mouth.

Bucky lets his head fall to one side, and as he does, he catches sight of the two of them in the mirrors, the profile of their athletic pose bouncing back and forth from mirror to mirror. Clint’s devastating musculature is everywhere Bucky looks. All he can see is Clint’s closed eyes, the stretch and give of his mouth as Bucky fucks into it, the contented look on his face as he bends himself literally in half for Bucky’s pleasure, and it’s so unbearably hot that it sends Bucky over the edge.

He comes with a grunt, tensing his thighs and digging his fingers into Clint’s hips hard enough that it will leave a mark. But Clint likes being marked. He likes Bucky using his mouth to get off. He likes showing off his body and his skill and being appreciated. And _fuck_, Bucky appreciates this. He pumps his hips lazily, letting Clint suckle at his cock until it softens and slips from his lips. And then he lifts Clint by the hips and gently sets him down in his lap, kissing at his slippery lips while Clint runs his fingers through Bucky’s matted hair.

“Was that good for you?” Clint whispers into Bucky’s parted lips. “Was I good?”

“Of course,” Bucky reassures him, wrapping his arms around Clint and pulling him closer. He licks into Clint’s mouth, chases the taste of his own come until it’s gone. “Sweetheart, you were amazing.”

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr post](https://1000-directions.tumblr.com/post/189161986039/title-the-amazing-hawkguy-link-ao3-square)


End file.
